The Snuffed Out Light
by JulieArchery107
Summary: Thechnically, both Edgeworths died in that damned elevator. The other one was just forced to keep breathing, when all he wanted was for the murderer to come finish the job.
1. Chapter 1

"The Snuffed Out Light"

Chapter 1

"The day life lost all its meaning."

He woke with a loud gasp.

His lungs burning, gulping in air like a parched man does water.

He… he could finally breathe...

"Mr. Edgeworth!" A voice suddenly called out from somewhere to his right. "You're awake!"

' _Edgeworth?_ ' He shook his head and the fog cleared. ' _Ah, yes… That is my name, after all. Ace Attorney, Gregory Edgeworth_.'

He blinked, his vision blurry from both natural causes and the lack of oxygen in his brain, trying to make out the person besides him.

"R-Reymond?"

The blurry figure nodded his curly head, vigorously.

' _Ah..._ ' Gregory thought. ' _So it **is** him_.'

"I'm so glad you're ok, sir!" The teenager cried, actual tears streaming down his young face. "I was so worried about you!"

"Thank you for your concern, Reymond." Gregory smiled kindly at his apprentice. "But I'm not the one you should be concerned about."

"Hm?" The boy tilted his head. "What do you mean, sir?"

"The man we're defending… Yanni Yogi, I believe his name was, he was quite distressed when we were stuck in the elevator."

' _Distressed enough to threaten to shoot me for ' **breathing in his air** ', if memory serves_.' He thought a bit bitterly.

"Ah, him!" Reymond picked up. "He's fine, sir. We managed to pull him out shortly after you."

"Oh..." He blinked. "That's good."

That should have put him at ease...

But it didn't.

Something was still... missing.

' _There is something… someone I'm forgetting_.'

*Flashback*

"Calm yourself, Yogi!"

"No… No! You're breathing in my air! I… I can't let you suck in my air!"

"S-Stop it! Put that gun down!"

"No! Stop breathing in my air!"

*End Flashback*

' _That's not... quite it yet. Maybe… if concentrate a bit… harder_.'

*Further Flashback*

"I'll… I'll shoot you, I swear! I-I! I don't want to die!"

"S-Stop! "

...

...

...

"Don't hurt my father!"

*End Flashback*

Gregory gasped and sat up.

' _T-That's it_!'

"Miles..." He breathed out.

"Hm?" Raymond asked. "Did you say something, sir?"

"My son... He… I...I need to see Miles." Gregory looked to his trusty assistant. "Raymond. Where is my son?!"

"I-I don't know, sir." The boy's voice quivered. "Isn't he at school?"

"The school had a pipe burst today, so lessons were cancelled." After finally locating his glasses he slid them on his nose. "Not wanting to leave him alone at home, I decided to take him with me to work."

"Oh, uh… can you give me a description, sir?" Shield asked softly. "You know… since I never met him before."

"You… want a description?" Gregory huffed. "How many children, besides my own, have you seen here lately?!"

"I...I… please just cooperate with me, sir." The boy seemed to be... trying to hide something from him.

Or postpone the inevitable...

Deciding to play along for now, the defense attorney huffed and rolled his eyes.

"My son, Miles Edgeworth, is a ten-year-old boy with short dark gray hair. On the day of the... incident he was wearing a red t-shirt and white shorts."

He then looked at the youth expectedly, hoping to get the answer he seeked.

But Reymond grew deathly pale and refused to say anything.

"..." The defense attorney narrowed his eyes at his apprentice. "Reymond?"

"..."

"Did..." He swallowed. "Did something happen?"

"..."

Getting rather impatient, Gregory hit the desk.

"Reymond I have the right to know!"

"..." At first it looked like the boy was going to continue this sudden silent treatment but, after a few seconds. "I'm not sure you're ready for this, sir but… come with me."

Edgeworth blinked, disoriented.

"What?"

"I… I can't just tell you, sir." The boy explained himself. "I'm sorry."

Gregory gave his pupil a very long and very hard stare, as he would prefer to simply be told, but eventually rose from his hospital bed.

Raymond led him out of the building and towards the Court, staying suspiciously silent throughout the whole journey.

The moment they left the hospital, the elder Edgeworth was torn between relief and massive concern.

Relief- because Miles could have simply woken up before him, and is now being questioned by Detective Badd.

Concern- because the whole situation still felt wrong.

Why didn't Reymond just tell him what happened? It isn't like the teenager to be so quiet.

With all this Gregory came to one conclusion:

Something terrible has happened to his son.

But, before he could inquire, they were in front of the elevator.

The defense attorney blinked then turned to Shields.

"Raymond what is the meaning of this?"

The teen avoided his gaze at all costs.

"Y-You wanted to see your son, sir." The boy swallowed. "He… he's inside the elevator."

"I… I don't understand." This didn't make sense. "Why would Miles still be inside that thing?"

There was no answer, and it was clear that the seventeen-year-old wasn't going to say anything else.

Deciding it was futile to pressure him into talking, Gregory just moved past him and entered the elevator.

The first thing he noticed while inside, was Detective Badd's broad back blocking his view of one of the corners.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Edgeworth?" Gregory was startled for a second, wondering how the older man knew he was behind him, before he noticed the black eyes glaring up at him in a small red pocket mirror.

"I was told that I would find my son here." He answered, looking back at the form of his own student back at the entrance before meeting Tyrell Badd's eyes again.

The older man looked shocked, more so than the attorney thought he was able to be.

"Y-Your son?" He repeated dumbly, worry entering his black eyes. "H-He was with you?"

"Indeed." Gregory just nodded, the fear in his stomach growing ever bigger. "Are you done questioning him about the blackout?"

When the detective actually looked away, the knot forming around Edgeworth's neck tightened considerably.

"In… a manner of speaking." Badd responded, ever the silent type.

"May I see him now?"

'Please...' he begged the man in his mind. 'Just let me confirm my boy is safe and sound.'

Badd sighed, then got up.

"...I'm sorry, Edgeworth." He suddenly said.

"What do you-"

Gregory was about to ask...

When the good detective stepped out of his way.

Revealing what he possibly considers his greatest fear come to life.

In that corner… lay a boy.

He had dark gray hair, a red t-shirt with a black bowtie and white shorts.

The child had his eyes closed as if asleep, but Gregory knew that wasn't the case.

His boy wasn't breathing, and had a bullet hole right over his heart.

Once those deductions really sunk in with their meaning, Gregory fell onto his knees before his son's body.

Someone… Murdered… His son...

"Miles..." His normally strong voice cracked.

"Oh my God... Miles..." He reached out to touch his son, to feel his skin against his fingers one last time.

But another hand grabbed his forearm.

"Don't… touch the crime scene." Badd. It was Badd's hand, though it wasn't as strong and firm he expected it to be.

Edgeworth's body moved before his brain could comprehend what was happening, his fist smashing against the elder man's nose.

"My son is not a crime scene!"

Badd was so surprised by the outburst that he didn't even block the enraged father's fist.

"I... didn't mean anything by that."

Gregory didn't respond and just glared at the detective, chest heaving with angry huffs.

After a few seconds worth of a stare down, Edgeworth turned around and dropped to his knees in front of his son's corpse.

Bearly holding back his screams of anguish, he picked up the lifeless body and hugged it. Pressing little Miles as close to himself as he could.

'Please...' He pleaded with whatever god was listening. 'Let this all be a hellish nightmare.'

"Miles..." He shook the small body, tears falling freely. "Miles son, wake up." Gregory buried his face in the boy's silver hair. "Please wake up."

But the body in his arms didn't warm up.

The still heart didn't begin to beat...

Miles Edgeworth, wasn't going to wake up.

Not now...

Not _ever_ again.


	2. Chapter 2

"Snuffed out Light"

Chapter 2

"Too little, too late"

He didn't know how long he kneeled there, his son's cooling body pressed tight against his chest and nose buried deep into his soft silver curls, but… deep down, he knew _no_ amount of time would be _enough_.

His legs were aching for him to get up, but he dare not move away.

His lungs burned and screamed for fresh air, yet he would not listen. Miles will _never_ breathe again. He can remain breathless for a little while longer.

His hands shook fingers digging into the dead flesh, desperate for a reaction, a scream, a shout, a _protest_ … But nothing ever comes, no matter how hard he presses and diggs.

He just wanted Miles to _wake up_. To pout about his chest hurting and complain about having his father's fingers imprinted into his arms.

He just wanted his son to _live_ …

He must have looked rather pathetic sitting there, gritting his teeth and rather foolishly searching for any sign of life from the body in his arms, until he could no longer feel his fingers.

But he just _couldn't_ think of anything else to _do_ , his mind torn between cold reality and hopeful denial.

It's funny, really, how death never seems to stop taking things away, once it's struck.

Because now it seemed to add his logical prowess into its harvest.

So when the specialists came around to take Miles away to the morgue, Gregory was too mentally exhausted to fight against it.

Now he just sat there, on the cold floor, looking blankly at his fingers that were stained with his son's sticky blood.

"Edgeworth…" he heard someone speak, though the voice sounded muffled and far. As if he was listening to it under water. "Gregory listen to me, it's time for you to get back up."

The Defense Attorney doesn't know if he recognizes the voice, not sure he wants to.

He doesn't listen to it, there is no point.

Getting up meant leaving the Police Station, and that in turn would result in him having to go home.

Where nothing waits for him aside from insufferable quiet, the terrible reminder that the bright little light in his life was no longer there, and the murky blackness of grief and guilt.

Because _he_ was _there_.

And yet Miles still _died_.

His legacy, his pride, his joy, his happiness and his light, just got sent down to the morgue, a room in which the living have no place, for an autopsy...

Why should he _want_ to leave?

"Gregory _please_ … you shouldn't be sitting on the floor like that." The defense attorney could feel hands on his shoulders, warm and strong, a striking contrast to the hollow coldness that now filled his chest. "Give me your hand."

He could feel the person reach to grasp his frozen digits, enclosing their hand around his bloody palm as if the stains were nothing more but figments of his imagination. "Hold onto me, Edgeworth and I'll pull you right up."

Something in that sentence makes him frown.

He couldn't tell whenever it was the forced optimism hidden between the words, the implication that this is something he can _actually_ recover from,or just the fact that it was said by a person who knew _nothing_ about what he's going through.

It sounded like the person was _mocking_ him, kicking him when he was already down and implying that he'll _never_ get back on his feet without help.

Part of Gregory wanted to get angry at the person. To yell that they have no right to judge him unless they went through the same ordeal.

Most of all, though… most of all he just wanted to be left alone. So that he could figure out how he's supposed to move on with his life, now that… that Miles was no longer a part of it.

So he let his fingers stay limp in the person's grasp, hoping they'll get the message and just leave him be.

But that didn't happen, and soon he felt himself being pulled into a standing position whether he likes it or not.

He's not sure if he's surprised to see who pulled him up, a Prosecutor with the same drive to find the truth he has, Byrne Faraday.

They worked together on some cases and have become good friends since then.

"There." The man said gently patting his shoulders. "That's better now, isn't it?"

Gregory didn't respond just gazed blankly at Faraday, wondering if this is what dry drowning feels like.

"Come on." Byrne then locked shoulders with him. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, alright?" He began leading the defense attorney away from the elevator but, before they would leave the cursed place, Gregory dug his feet to the ground.

"No." He rasped out.

"Edgeworth-"

"I'm _not_ leaving."

"...this is no place for you, Gregory."

" _He's_ here." He nodded towards the door that not too long ago opened to let a team of specialists carry away his son. "So I will stay here too. He… never liked being alone. He pretended to be nonchalant so that I didn't worry but… I always _knew_ it scared him."

He was projecting.

He was _projecting_ his own fears onto Miles, and it didn't matter because

' _ **God**_ _, my poor_ _ **boy**_ _.'_

Byrne then grabbed his shoulders and gave them a gentle shake.

"Edgeworth focus on me for a second, okay?" He asked, voice filled with concern. "Your son-"

"Miles." The defense attorney corrected him. "His name is _Miles_."

"...Miles then." Faraday swallowed thickly. "He… he wouldn't want you to stay here and drown in self-loathing. He'd… want you to go _home_."

"Home? What _home_?" Gregory chuckled, though the notion seemed lifeless and devoid of emotion..

His dark eyes fell. " _Home_ left along with him."

In the end Byrne managed to move him to the waiting lobby with the help of Detective Badd, another part of their inner circle of friends.

They sat him on one of the benches and gave him a mug filled with scalding hot tea to drink.

"He doesn't look so good, Tyrell." Gregory heard Byrne say, watching his friend stare blankly at his reflection in the dark liquid. "He's holding onto the cup despite it being burning hot… that… that can't be healthy."

"He's in shock… Faraday." The larger man sighed, pulling out a little pink lollipop from between his lips. "Right now you could shoot him and he wouldn't notice."

"We need to help him." The Prosecutor voice sounded full of determination and energy. "How… how do we help him?"

Gregory continued to stare deep into his own eyes reflected in the tea even as Tyrell answered.

"There is not much we can do aside from making sure he doesn't follow after his boy."

His eyes changed and swirled with each and every breath he let out, at the mercy of the rippling currents of the water.

It looked troubling, horrific…

And _painful_.

He let out a mirthless chuckle.

The Gregory looking back at him reflected his inner turmoil better than any facial expression, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered which one of them is real.

"Only time can heal this type of wounds, and sometimes…"

He stopped breathing, waiting for the image to still and be at peace again...

"Sometimes not even _it_ can help..."

But it _never_ did.

* * *

Misty Fey was meditating in her private when Morgan came to give her the news.

"Miles Edgeworth is dead." She said with the sort of detachment that suggested she was talking about a stray _dog,_ rather than her only nephew.

The master spirit medium flinched at the news but otherwise gave no reaction.

"How?" Was all that she asked.

The boy couldn't be more than ten years of age and was perfectly healthy if she were to go by the latest letter Gregory sent Mia, so the cause of death couldn't be natural.

...unless Gregory lied to keep her from worrying.

"Shot." Her older sister stated coldly, distantly. She never believed the Edgeworth to be part of their family. "His father was with him."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Is Gregory also…" she couldn't ask the dreaded question, her throat choked on the very words.

"No."

Misty let out a sigh of relief.

 _'Thank the Lord for small mercies._ '

Morgan said nothing more, leaving her to slowly be consumed by the realization that one of the children she brought into the world has been torn out of it brutally and painfully.

She gasped, her hand traveling up to rest over her heart which was slowly being torn apart by memories long buried in the dark depths of her mind.

 **# Flashback#**

" _It's a boy, Ms. Fey."_

 _Is the first thing she heard after an hour of rest._

 _At first all she felt was sadness and shame that her second-born turned out to be a boy, useless to her clan for being unable to channel._

" _Would you like to hold him?"_

 _She wants to say no. It would be easier to dispose him in an orphanage when the emotional connection is minimal._

 _It would be best for both parties, she tells herself, if the boy knows not who his biology mother is._

 _But then… then she actually sees him._

 _His small head, silver puff of hair, puffy cheeks and small fists curled on the blue blanket he was wrapped in._

 _She looked at all that… and her heart went out to this newborn bundle of joy._

" _Yes." Misty rasped out, struggling to sit up. "Please."_

 _The nurse nods and gently places the baby in her weak arms._

 _The minute she got a solid grip on him, the boy yawned, rubbed his eyes and then blinked up at Misty with big, dark-gray orbs that he shared with Gregory._

 _The mystic smiled gently._

" _Hello, little one." She whispered softly. "I'm your mother."_

 _The child didn't smile back just tilted his head, his tiny hand traveling up to his mouth so that he can suck on his thumb._

" _Not very talkative, are you?" Misty chuckled, remembering how Mia gurgled and cooed after hearing her voice for the first time. "You must take after your father, then."_

 _The boy tilts his head again, as if trying to understand what his parent was attempting to communicate to him, intelligence shining in his bright eyes._

 _He was going to grow into quite the smart individual, Misty thought._

 _'Just like his father.'_

" _Ma-ma!" Her thoughts were interrupted with the arrival of her, now eldest child, Mia and her older sister, Morgan._

 _The leader of Kurain looked up at the incoming pair and smiled at her daughter._

" _Hello, my dear." She shifter a bit in her bed to allow the two year old to crawl up to sit next to her._

 _Once the toddler was safely sat against the large pillow, Misty could afford to look towards her older sister, who was standing in the middle of the room seemingly unwilling to step closer._

" _Morgan." She nodded her head in greeting._

" _Mystic Misty." Came the cold response. The older woman then looked at the bundle in her arms with barely hidden disgust. "Is this… the_ _ **boy**_ _?" She spat the last word out as if was poison burning her tongue._

 _Misty felt her features darken in response to the insult._

" _You will_ _ **not**_ _use that tone when addressing_ _ **my**_ _son." She hissed out, tone low and filled with warning._

 _Morgan's eyes widen and she steps back in shock, before gaining back her composure and bowing her head respectfully._

" _ **Yes**_ _, Mystic Misty." Her tone grew even colder now, more resentful than the master of Kurain ever heard her use before._

" _Ba-ba!" Mia's childish voice pulled Misty's eyes away from her older sister._

 _The little girl was leaning over her mother's shoulder, peering curiously at the small baby in her arms, who in turn, looked just as interested in her as she was in him._

" _Yes, Mia." Misty smiled at her in approval. "That is a baby."_

" _Bah!" She squealed happy at the praise, and, for a moment Misty was worried her newborn son will get frightened and start crying._

 _But, much to her pleasant surprise, the baby did no such thing. Just looked up at her, thumb securely in mouth, and big dark-gray orbs blinking sweetly at her._

" _This is your little brother, Mia." Misty smiled at her daughter. "Say hello, my dear."_

" _Hi!" The happy dark-haired girl beamed at the tiny baby, and waved in greeting._

 _The nameless boy gurgled a short response before stuffing his thumb back into his mouth._

 _Mia giggled at that, filling the room with enlightened laugher._

 _Misty even noticed that the baby boy smiled at the sound, as if he enjoyed it._

" _Look, Mia." Misty said to catch the girl's attention. "Your new sibling smiled."_

" _Bah, s-sm" the two year old tried to say, "s… s… s'mils." she then beamed at her mother. "S' mils!"_

 _Misty noded._

" _Very good, Mia." She praised._

 _A few more minutes later, the nameless child started getting fussy out of hunger so Misty adjusted her hold on him and began to feed him._

" _I assume the… father will want to see the boy." Morgan said, reminding the master Mystic of her presence._

" _He will, indeed." She replied solemnly, remembering the big argument Gregory started after they banned him from seeing their firstborn when she was born._

 _Morgan let out a deep and long-suffering sigh before finally saying:_

" _I... suppose we can allow him to see the newborn."_

 _It sounded like she's doing everyone a_ _ **huge**_ _favor by allowing the birth father to see his child. A favor that Misty is going to have to repay later on._

 _It didn't matter right now, however._

 _What mattered is that Gregory is going to see both his daughter and his newborn son, and, for a single afternoon, they could be a real family._

" _'mils!" Mia butted in with a large smile._

" _Yes, little one." Misty released one of her hands from holding her new bundle of joy, and ruffled the little girls tiny fringe._

" _Mommy is smiling."_

* * *

 _Am hour later, when Mia was wrigling her fingers over her little brother's head, the door was pushed open revealing a disheveled Gregory Edgeworth._

" _I'm… here!" He huffed, leaning on his knees for support. "I'm here…"_

 _Mia squeaked on his unexpected entry and was now peeking at him from behind her mother's shoulder._

 _Misty chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand in mirth._

" _Yes, you most certainly are."_

 _The defense attorney gave her a looped grin before huffing and puffing a bit more._

" _Have you come to see the newest addition to our family, Gregory?" Misty smiled kindly in his direction. She felt a squeeze on her shoulder. "Ah, right. How could I forget? You must meet our daughter too, of course." She gently nudged the two year old to step out from behind her shadow. "Go say 'Hello' Mia."_

 _The two-year-old waved at her father shily._

" _Hi."_

 _Gregory, finally managing to calm his breathing down to a reasonable pace, smiled and kneeled in front of the tiny girl._

" _Hello, Mia." He said gently, voice choked up with raw emotion. "Do you… do you know who I am."_

" _F'wen?" The tiny girl tilted her head at him, her hand fumbling with her dress._

" _Not quite but close." Edgeworth chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm… I'm your daddy, Mia."_

 _For a moment the girl just looked at him in total silence, before turning to her mother and asking:_

" _Da-da?"_

 _Misty just smiled, and nodded her head._

" _Da-da!" The tiny girl then launched herself at the defense attorney she just met, hugging his neck as tightly as possible._

 _Gregory, despite being a bit surprised by her openness, laughed and tightly hugged her back._

" _ **God**_ _, how I_ _ **longed**_ _to do this." Edgeworth managed to choke out through his clenched throat, nose hurried in Mia's fluffy hair. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you Mia, I really wanted to, I swear. I'm so so_ _ **sorry**_ _."_

 _He kept on apologizing to the small girl for something that wasn't his fault, and the sight made Misty's eyes fill with tears._

 _Right now she wished more than ever, that the rules in her village were not so strict when it comes to males living among them._

 _That she could have a real family._

 _At this exact moment her nameless boy started to babble, gaining the attention of everyone in the room._

" _Oh, is that…" Edgeworth started to ask, standing up with Mia in his arms._

" _Yes." Misty nodded. "Our little boy."_

 _Gregory slowly walked over to the bed, sat down on the edge, maneuvered the tiny girl in his arms to his lap and then looked over Misty's shoulder._

 _Locking his eyes with that of his baby boy, who blinked up at him sucking his thumb._

" _He's... beautiful." The defense attorney whispered, reaching out his hand towards the tiny fist clenched on the blue blanket and rubbing it gently. "Does… does he have a name?"_

" _No, I haven't been able to think of on-"_

" _'mils!" Mia squeaked, happily nested between her father and mother. "'mils!"_

 _Both adults look at each other._

" _Miles…" Misty whispered out what was on both their minds, and smiled. "I believe Mia wants her baby brother to be named Miles."_

" _A very fitting name, little one." Gregory kissed Mia's little head, making her giggle._

" _Miles Edgeworth it is, then."_

 _ **# End of flashback #**_

That was the first and last time they were a real family.

Her clan traditions didn't allow for anything more.

And now, the tiny life form that brought them together, was gone.

 _Murdered_.

Misty allowed her tears to fall onto the prayer mat she was sitting on.

 _'Miles._ ' she thought shaking her head. ' _How I wish I could have been there for you._ '

* * *

Gregory cursed under his breath when he saw who just entered the police station, and desperately wished he had something strong to drink.

"Gregory." She said, the siren, the mermaid, the _harpy_. In that _sweet_ angelic voice that drew him to her all those years ago. "I came as soon as I heard what happened. I… I don't know what to say…"

"Don't bother saying _anything_." He growled out, annoyed with her pretences. "I don't need your _empty_ sympathies."

Misty Fay actually flinched at his hard tone and, for a second, he felt bad for snapping at her.

But then he remembered the large dark-gray eyes of his brave, little boy the few times he asked where was "his mommy".

He remembered the sadness and subconscious understanding shining in them when he lied and said she died in a car crash.

And, immediately, all guilt melts away.

"How can you _say_ that?" Misty asked, voice quieter now. "He was _my_ son too, I grieve for him as much as you d-"

"Don't you _dare_." Gregory rounded on her, eyes Blazing in anger. "Don't you _dare_ say those words to me as if they were true, because we _both_ know they're _not_."

Misty met him head on, head high and shoulders squared.

"They _are_ true."

"Oh? Oh _really_ " He chuckled brokenly. "Now this… _this_ I _got_ to _see_." The defense attorney crossed his arms on his chest. "Tell me then, _dear_ grieving _mother_ , that child you're mourning… what was his name?"

"Gregory…" Detective Badd tried to intervene but Edgeworth didn't let him.

"What. Was. His. _Name_?"

The spirit medium didn't answer, she just looked at him unflinchingly.

"You have no idea, do you?" Gregory snorted. "You don't even know the _name_ of the _child_ you're _supposed_ to be _mourning_ , and you expect me to believe you're _grieving_ for him?!"

"Edgeworth…"

"I can still feel pain at the loss of my offspring as a moth-"

" _You_ ," Gregory pointed an accusatory finger at her. "were no _mother_. Not to _Miles_. Maybe you were to our daughters, but _never_ to _him_." He hissed out through gritted teeth. "Because _he_ was never _worthy_ of _your_ attention, now _was_ he?!"

"That's not true-"

"Oh?" He asked, rage clear in his voice. "If that's not true, then _where_ the _hell_ _were you_?!" The man screamed out what has been bubbling inside him for years. "Where were you when Miles was in a hospital fighting for his life as a three month old baby?! Where were you when he broke his arm riding his tricycle?! Where were you when we celebrated his birthdays?! _Where_ were _you_ when he _needed_ his _mother_?!"

"I-"

"I can tell you." Gregory's heart was pounding. "I can tell you _exactly_ where you were all this time." He points up. "Up there… in your _pretty_ little village, where Mia and Maya are the _only_ ones that deserve to have you in their lives because they're _girls_."

"The code of my village-"

"I _know_ what that stupid thing says!" The defense attorney exploded. "I _accepted_ it the moment I met you…" He whispered, voice filled with grief. "I knew… I knew I would never get to raise my daughters due to it's fucking rules, but I _still_ did what I _could_ to make up for it!" Gregory slammed the desk he stood behind. "I send them birthday gift on their birthdays, I made sure they didn't _starve_ to death. _Fuck_ , I even sent _letters_!"

"But _you_?" He laughed. "The _only_ time _you_ showed up in his life, is _now._ When he's _dead_!"

The defense Attorney then laughed bitterly.

"You know… he never believed what I told him about you, not _really_. He was… much too smart for that, that boy of mine." He chuckled sadly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I caught him once… as he was writing a letter to someone, when he was five years old." Gregory chuckled."Heh… I remember being curious about who the receiver is, so I waited till he fell asleep to take a peak." He then glared at Misty again. "It was… a letter to "mom". He… he just wanted you to come to us for one day. _One_ day. Because… it was my birthday and… he couldn't think of a better present." The defense attorney swallowed thickly and rubbed away the tears that ran down his cheeks. "He figured that… God knows you wouldn't come for _him_... maybe... maybe you'd come… for me." His entire body shook. "He just wanted _one day_ … even promised not to ask for anything _ever_ again, if only you'd _show up_."

Edgeworth grit his teeth tighter to keep the cries from escaping.

"I even… I even _got_ that letter to you. Gave it to that funny little delivery lady that looked at the small pink envelope in disgust, before placing it in her bag with all the other mail. And, for a moment, I let myself hope that, maybe you'll do it. That you'll show up."

He then shook his head bitterly.

"But you _never_ did, and I… _God_ I never saw him so _crushed_ in my _life_." He lifted his head and looked at Misty, tears glittering in his eyes. "You know what he said then?"

Gregory walked up to the spirit medium and looked her deep in her eyes.

"He asked, _'Father? Is it… my fault that mom doesn't want to see you?_ '." He asked, voice soft.

"And I said… I told him _'Mommy is_ _ **dead**_ _, Miles._ ' and, you know _what_? I think… I think he _finally_ believed me that time."

Misty opened her mouth to says something but Gregory silenced her with a raised hand.

"I know why you're _really_ here, Misty." He stated coldly, his voice too even and sturdy to really be calm. "And the answer is _no_."

"Edgeworth think this through." Tyrell Badd tried to reason with his friend. "It might be the only way for us to get some answers."

"I'd rather die _not_ knowing who killed my son, than have a ten-year-old channeled to talk about his own _murder_!"

"Gregory…" Misty tried, voice soft.

"Miles might have meant _nothing_ to _you."_ Edgeworth spat out in her direction. "But he meant _everything_ to _me_. And I'll be _damned_ if I let him get hurt on my watch again."

Silence filled the police station and, for a fleeting second, Gregory thought the proud Master of Kurain will just turn around and go.

But she _didn't_.

She stayed.

"I know this is a very difficult time right now, Gregory." Misty took a step in his direction. "The wound is still raw, and your mind is filled with problematic emotions and feelings." When he didn't react, she dared to take another step forward. "But, after the dust has settled, believe me, you will want to know the truth. You will long for closure."

Edgeworth let out a broken laugh.

"Problematic emotions, metaphorical open wounds, _closure_ … is this what you tell _everyone_ who's hesitating?" He then hit the desk before him with his open palm. "You keep the rest of the family out of Miles's reach for all his life, ignore the fact that he even exists when he's sick or in a hospital, and now, that he's been _murderer_ , you _suddenly_ show up and _dare_ to play the grieving _mother_?"

"I-"

"What is your _motive_ in this, Misty?" Gregory spat out. "Are you hoping that, now that the only _disgrace_ in your lineage is _dead_ , I'll be willing to make you _another_ girl? Is _that_ what you're after Misty?! Another child to take far away from me, and raise to be a cold hearted _bitch_ like _you_ , in exchange for _what_? Closure?" He laughed. _"What_ closure?! Knowing who killed Miles _won't_ bring him back, _catching_ the murderer won't bring him back, _nothing_ will _ever_ bring my boy _back_!"

Misty froze in place, quietly listening to the Defense Attorney's rant.

"No…" Gregory shook his head, with a sad chuckle. "No I want you to stay _out_ of the situation. It shouldn't be hard, just pretend we don't exist."

He then looked deep into Misty's eyes.

"Like you've done for the last _ten years_."


	3. Chapter 3

"Snuffed out Light"

Chapter 3

"No real happy endings."

In the end he had to be dragged back to his house, because this place couldn't be called a 'home' not anymore, by both his friends.

Friends who had decided, while he wondered when exactly had he lost control over his life, that it would be in his best interest if they stayed with him for a few days.

 _To keep you company._ They say.

 _To keep you from doing something horrible._ He hears.

He doesn't protest, he's too tired to argue.

Gregory, at this very moment, just wanted to sleep. To drop onto his bed, curl into a ball and never wake up again. Seeing Misty has exhausted what little energy he had left after hearing that Mil- **he shuddered, a bile growing in his throat, eyes drowning misty behind his glasses, teeth digging into his lip to keep the sob from disturbing his friends,** _he_ died.

The Defense Attorney felt disgusted with himself and this… this _inability_ to think or say his son's name without suffering a breakdown.

He bites his lip and digs his nails into his palms.

Deeper and deeper and deeper and harder and harder and _dear God he tastes blood, feels it gather around his nails-_

His ears catch the sound of the key turning in the keyhole and wanders where Byrne got them from, before remembering that he's a thief, and that stealing their keys and badges from under their noses was a running gag in their small circle.

Usually it would make him smile.

Now… even the thought of smiling… _hurt_.

It felt as if he was disrespecting towards Mil- _him_ by trying to be happy when _his body_ hasn't even grown _cold_ yet.

It felt like _betrayal_.

So Greg just stared blankly at the door being pushed open.

"Alright, done." Byrne sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. "Home sweet home, right?"

 _No_. "Yes." Came the strained response, as he tried to avoid the rush of memories hidden within these walls for _**just**_ _a little_ _ **longer**_ _.._.

"Oh my, maybe this wasn't such a good idea." Byrne must have picked up on his tensing back, as he stopped himself before he could fully enter the house.

But Badd just shook his head and gave the detective a sad look.

"He'll have to... confront them… eventually."

Edgeworth knew he was right.

Whether it was now or later, made no difference.

They won't stop being painful.

It would be better if he just got it over with _now_ , when he's already in pain, than later when the wounds manage to heal a bit.

A hand lands on his other shoulder.

"Be brave, Edgeworth." Says Tyrell's gruff voice.

He doesn't _think_ he can manage it.

He _knows_ he _can't_.

But he nods his head anyway.

And steps right into his personal hell.

* * *

Tyrell has witnessed grief many _many_ times during his years as a Detective.

All those times it has been unique to each separate individual, as everyone reacts to loss differently.

He's seen people staring blankly at the wall, not quite believing that those they lost won't be _there_ anymore. He's seen others crying over relationships that could never be salvaged, words that could no longer be told… and he witnessed those screaming at the top of their lungs for the hanging of those at fault, trying to cover the pain with explosive anger and desire for vengeance.

All those reactions were very hard for him to watch, everlasting reminders of his enormous _failures_.

Had he been quicker… had he been able to catch the murderer before he claimed any of his victims…

Those thoughts have been poisoning his mind ever since that fateful night in Rivine all those years ago...

And he _knows_ that those grief-struck faces will _never_ go away, that they'll _continue_ to haunt his dreams until he forgets what _silence_ sounds like… until he no longer remembers how to _sleep_.

He thought he could deal with them, he _has_ been dealing with them for most of his life…

Then Miles died, adding to the inky sea of demons ripping away at his heart.

Because, though he knew Gregory blamed _himself_ more than anyone, there was a tiny part of the Defense Attorney that blamed _him_ for what happened to the bright silver-haired boy.

And that was okay.

Tyrell blamed himself too.

Which is why he forced the both of them to go stand face-to-face with the hollow tomb that was once a home filled with warmth and happiness.

Because _he_ needs to see the consequences of his failure. He needs to see Gregory's devastation, _needs_ to witness how it ruins this once _great_ man and reduces him to a mere _shadow_ of who he once was…

Needs to be the one to pick up the shattered remains, to smell the ashes as the flames burn away at the Defense Attorney's soul, to help his friend get back to his feet.

Because he can't help but feel _responsible_ for this accident.

An accident that hit a little too close to home.

An accident that cost them all _far_ too much.

Hell, he and Byrne loved that kid as much as Gregory did.

Loved how stuck up and mature he was, despite his age.

Loved the way he took his studies seriously and how dedicated he was towards his dream to become a great Defense Attorney like his father.

Loved how he played with his dog Pess, and got childishly invested in a "Steel Samurai" show.

Miles was their nephew in every way except for blood, and it was _heartbreaking_ for them to see such a bright little spark be snuffed out before his time to shine.

Because Tyrell had the feeling this kid could have changed the world.

It was a pity he no longer had the chance to.

* * *

Byrne Faraday was never one for lasting silence.

Whenever he isn't filling the air with the sounds of conversation, he either blasts music from his stereo or opens his window to allow birds to fill it with their tunes.

Silence... _unnerved_ him.

Especially when it was in a home that was usually so full of _life_.

There was no Steel Samurai blasting in the background.

There was no Pess barking excitedly at their arrival.

 _There was no_ _ **Miles**_.

 _'This is a_ _ **tomb**_.' The Prosecutor thought, a bale rising to his throat. ' _It is a tomb_ _ **masquerading**_ _as a real home_.'

The pictures on the walls… they _mocked_ them. Reminding them of a time when the small boy still ran around, when he blew candles on his fifth birthday cake and when he was allowed to keep the small dog.

Byrne's heart sank when he saw Gregory reach out to one of said photos, the one where he and Miles were smiling at the camera together (he remembered when it was taken. They have just received the news that the boy had passed to the final stage of a math competition he entered. He has never seen Gregory so proud… or Miles so _happy_.).The next moment Gregory swiped it off the wall.

It hit the ground with a sickening crunch of glass and wooden frames, making the prosecutor flinch, but the Defense Attorney didn't seem bothered by it.

In fact…

He moved to the next one.

 _ **Crash!**_

And the next one…

 _ **Crash!**_

After that he just left his arm stretched out, moving along the wall and knocking down every picture that he could reach.

' _He's trying to bury those happy moments, cheerful smiles and meaningful memories..._.' Byrne thought sadly, watching his friend disintegrate before his very eyes. Gregory _loved_ those photos… _'Deep enough so that he doesn't have to be reminded of what he's lost._ '

He can see the tears on Gregory's cheeks, the flashes of teeth as they sink into his lower lip, and the pale knuckles on his free hand.

 _Oh Edgeworth…_

Another three pictures hit the cold floor with glass shattering all over the place.

 _Does it really hurt that much?_

Suddenly… a hand lands on Gregory's shoulder, making him freeze.

"Gregory-"

"I _can't_." The Defense Attorney managed to choke out, his entire body shaking. "I can't _look_ him in the eye, see him so happy, It-" He swallows so thickly it's painful to listen to. "It _hurts…_ " he explained head bowed and his hand falling to his side. "I-I can't… can't take it." He wiped away tears that already made their way down his cheeks. "Too weak… too weak to even... protect the only family I ever… had."

"It wasn't… your fault." Tyrell's deep rumble echoed through the hallway like a lazy things cloud.

"Of _course_ it _wasn't_." Gregory spat, shaking the hand off his shoulder. "I _didn't_ pick up that gun, I _didn't_ shoot my boy." He ranted on, and Byrne tried to ignore the sound of glass shattering as he walked over it. "But I was _there_ when it _happened,_ and I could do _nothing_. _ **It wasn't your fault**_ , what _difference_ does it _make_? Who _did_ it, who _didn't_ … who _cares_?"

"You should." Byrne whispered quietly, gaining his friend's attention.

" _Why_?" Gregory spat out. "It won't change a _thing_. It _won't_ pull the bullet from Mil- _his_ heart, it _won't_ make it _beat_ again, it _won't_ bring him _back_."

" **The truth is such a fickle thing**." Faraday quoted Edgeworth's own words, ones he heard him say to defendants far too often, back at him. " **It is just as likely to** _ **free**_ **as it is to** _ **condemn**_ **the one who conceals it. Yet we must pursue it** _ **regardless**_ **, because, at least inwardly, there** _ **will**_ **be peace for everyone involved** _ **.**_ "

It stunned him, Byrne could see it in his gray eyes, to hear his own words directed back at him.

He blinks, looking disoriented in the face of his own philosophy.

"Peace…" the Defense Attorney echoed, sounding more like a scratched record than a fellow human being.

" **How can there be** _ **peace**_ **after all** _ **this**_ **?"**

It took the Prosecutor a good few minutes to realize that Edgeworth was quoting one of the defendants, right after they were declared 'not guilty'.

They didn't understand, not back then.

Because the truth should have solved the problem, should have made things _right_ again.

They didn't get why the man was still so utterly _broken_.

Now...

Now he thinks they _do_.

They understand far more than they ever dreamed to.


End file.
